"And afterwards? You can tell me! What is it?"
"Afterward," said the young wife in a low tone, as if ashamed to tell the rest: "it isn't love at all—he's just a stranger—inflamed with liquor—who has me in his power!"
Fanny, shocked, clasped her sister the more closely.
"Virgie!" she exclaimed. "Poor little Virgie!"
"Yes, it's horrible," said Virginia, with difficulty keeping back the tears. "Sometimes," she went on, "for days I can hardly look at him! And yet, strange as it may seem, I still love him! I love him to-day better than I ever loved him. Why? I do not know. If it wasn't for just that one thing I could be the happiest woman in the world."
"Poor little girl," murmured Fanny, consolingly.
At that moment there was a sharp rap on the door. The elder sister quickly went to open.
"It's James," she said, "shall I let him in?"
"Certainly," replied Virginia.